


If Romancing Me with Neons is Something you Should Do

by gunboots



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternative Universe - Cold War, BASICALLY THIS IS A MAN FROM UNCLE AU IM SORRY IM SHAMELESS, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Crack, Gen, I'm Sorry, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Otabek is Gaby, Voyeurism, Yuri is Illya, and JJ is Archer, bad bl boogie, yaoi logic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunboots/pseuds/gunboots
Summary: “American spy.” It's spat out like an accusation, the man frowns theatrically, handsome face dismal.“Canadian actually—though, this is somewhat of a joint effort. You know, it’s funny—you’re the second person who’s made that mistake today.” The man, devil really, takes a bow. “Jean-Jacques Leroy, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Security Service usually, but CIA currently. I must say, the Ice Tiger of Russia is a lot smaller than I thought, more a kitten, though a very pretty one at that.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seiteis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiteis/gifts), [unheroics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unheroics/gifts).



> This took waaayyy too long basically I've been talking about how from the BEGINNING Yuri reminded me of Illya and JJ reminded me of Napoleon but then Julie was like "you mean JJ is ARCHER" and it has all snowballed from there. So basically this is an excuse to write JJ in a suit, Yuri with a sniper rifle and Otabek with a motorcycle shooting people LOL--take everything with a grain of salt. Nothing is really accurate I mean come on this is basically cheesy, overdrawn spy yaoi at it's finest ok.
> 
> I pretty much phoned in a lot of spy stuff--I also don't go into much detail about a lot of things because then the fanfic would have been longer and started to get lost in itself. Like I said--spy yaoi. Two things: I only say it at the end but basically JJ is an agent of [a certain spy network](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Man_from_U.N.C.L.E._\(film\)) and this is Yuri's [sniper rifle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragunov_sniper_rifle) because why not. ALSO THERE OR MAY NOT BE MENTIONS OF CERTAIN AGENTS OF UNCLE CAUSE IM A TOOL.
> 
> Title is from Caro Emerald's "Tangled Up." I did a few light edits--but knowing me lol I'm going to be continuously finding errors and tweaking ahaha.

When Yuri regains consciousness, he immediately becomes aware of two things—he is bound and he is bound to a bed. It’s actually more like the bed posts—Yuri’s eyes narrow as he takes better stock of his surroundings.

The hotel room is opulent to the point of excess, from the detailed floral pattern on the walls to the gaudy golden leafed furniture around him. Yuri’s face curls into a sneer as recognition hits him—his first honeypot mission and he’d been caught by the very mark he was supposed to be extracting information from. The mission was bad from the get-go: he should’ve known when his contact failed to show up that it was doomed.

He’d pushed forward anyway—how hard would it be to locate and seduce a lowly antiques dealer—especially when the mark made it so painfully obvious he didn’t belong, easily spotted in the hotel lobby. Sharp-dressed in a blue three-piece suit, complete with silver cufflinks. He had grinned when Yuri had approached him—almost condescending in the piecemeal Russian he offered, treating Yuri as if he was lost. It was one of Yuri’s strengths really—people always underestimated him right up till he struck. Yuri remembers offering a shy smile as he had taken the stranger up on the offer to follow him to his room, taken him by the hand, feeling a sharp prick of pain. That was when Yuri had noticed the man’s ring—foolish, so foolish—

“You’re awake—I didn’t realize you’d be out this long, I may have over done it on the sedative.” The mark is still dressed in his suit—the top button of his shirt is undone and he’s removed his coat—a small part of Yuri spits that at one point in time, he’d admitted to his handler that the mark had been ‘not unpleasing’. He had a devil’s smile—it should have terrified Yuri that it had yet to leave his face, but Yuri is one of the best agents the KGB has.

Yuri’s furious—he should’ve recognized the signs earlier—stylish suits and the sleek, self-assured attitude to match. This wasn’t some lost antiques dealer working for some eccentric millionaire.

“American spy.” It's spat out like an accusation, the man frowns theatrically, handsome face dismal.

“Canadian actually—though, this is somewhat of a joint effort. You know, it’s funny—you’re the second person who’s made that mistake today.” The man, devil really, takes a bow. “Jean-Jacques Leroy, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Security Service usually, but CIA currently. I must say, the Ice Tiger of Russia is a lot smaller than I thought, more a kitten, though a very pretty one at that.”

Leroy doesn’t approach even as he speaks, instead turning towards the drink counter to his left—intentionally turning his back to Yuri as he makes himself a drink. Yuri lets out a snarl of an insult to try and cover the panic that is currently attempting to make its way into his system—he’d been found out.

This was all a set-up. Did Otabek—surely, he didn’t—he couldn’t have—

“Don’t worry—Mr.Altin didn’t betray you—for a contact, he was surprisingly loyal. Ingenious move by the way, having a travelling figure skater double as an informant.” Leroy assures brightly, taking an idle sip of scotch from the tumbler in his hand. “His coach however, as much as he liked you—didn’t hesitate.”

“Where is Altin?” Otabek was a friend, the rarest commodity Yuri had now more than ever, as he rises higher and higher in the ranks. And now Otabek was at the mercy of the enemy—Yuri should have prepared for this, he’d been on too many other missions to NOT know how this would end.

“—He’s fine. Despite what your superiors say, we’re hardly savages.” Leroy explains, patiently as he finally approaches, completely at ease. “His coach agreed to sell you out in exchange for asylum for Otabek and his family. Very noble.”

“What do you want?” Yuri will not be defeated, far from it but he knows that other agent is underestimating him and he can utilize this. The bed posts seem more decorative than functional—all Yuri needs it to conceive a plan and enough time to break free from his bonds. Yuri’s weapons are all missing and the agent before him doesn’t have anything he can use—yet. He’ll need to keep the other agent distracted—keep him talking.

Unfortunately, the other agent seems to realize exactly what Yuri is doing, his grin gets wider before he empties the rest of his glass. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Leroy just continues to speak.

“Yuri Plisetsky—you’re amazing, did you know that? You must—you’re very driven after all. One of the KGB’s finest and most promising recruits.” Yuri’s scowl deepens as Leroy leans closer but maintains his distance, so far out of reach. “What I want, Mr. Plisetsky, is you. Or rather…not you exactly, but your skills.”

Yuri stops struggling.

What.

\---

It’s a job offer.

The Americans want him to burn his country and work for them. He stares and stares as Leroy rationally explains the particulars, pleasant and with no actual effort to untie Yuri.

“You’re very accomplished for 19 and our side does so like promise—if you agree, we’d grant you and your family asylum.” Leroy sounds patient, even plays sympathetic well. “Your grandfather can’t keep working forever Yuri—go with us and he’ll be able to secure a much more comfortable life.”

Yuri’s handlers said there would be temptations, he’s faced torture before and had other things promised him by so many different people and groups—this is the first one that truly sways him.

Unfortunately, Agent Leroy is right—his grandfather is ailing, Yuri can’t ignore it any longer. Whenever Yuri visits he can see it—the way his hands shake, the grimace whenever his grandfather sits down after long periods of time working on his feet for so long. Whenever he gets sick, there is very little they can do.

Yuri was hoping to rise through the ranks faster, to get his family the luxury of a comfortable life they desperately needed. He’s not sure his grandfather can afford to wait much longer.

“You’re lying.” It sounds weak even to him and he hates that, despises it deeply—Yuri is no stranger to doing what must be done, and yet faced with his grandfather’s mortality it stings. They have to be lying—they need to be. This has to be another test, something, anything—there was no way the decadent West would care that much about HIM of all agents, no matter how good he was. No one was worth this much RISK.

“We’ve invested a bit too much in this operation for this to be a joke I assure you—we’re completely serious—you’d be an invaluable asset and we’re well prepare to pay the price.” Leroy says, surprisingly earnest. “Your family will be well cared for—“

“—For as long as you find me useful.” Yuri bites despite himself, bitterness rising in his throat—the only reason he was a spy in the first place had been the offer when he was 15. It’s been four long years and he’s already seen too much—nothing is ever this simple.

“Well, isn’t that how these things go?” Leroy shrugs, avoiding his gaze. He turns, grin returning—the devil once more. “What do you say, Mr. Plisetsky?”

In the end, there is only one answer. Yuri’s loyal, but—this is his family and their safety—he’ll always chose them first.

“Make the call.”

\---

Yuri has two distinct revelations following the confirmation of his new employment. First: he’s not working for the American or Canadian governments—it’s actually an international intelligence agency with no concrete to ties to any one nation alone. Apparently Leroy’s higher-ups had approached Yuri’s superiors before and had been given the cold shoulder. (“They’re used to it actually—they’ve had trouble with getting the USSR to commit before.” Leroy had revealed, even though Yuri was sure the information he was giving away was probably classified. “You’re not the only former KGB agent—doubt you’ll see him though.” Of course Leroy hadn’t bothered elaborating what that meant.)

“You just assumed and I didn’t bother correcting you—it would’ve taken too long to explain.” Leroy had said, waving away Yuri’s shock when they’d pulled up to headquarters, a modern statement of glass and steel. And that led to the other discovery: Leroy was either the world’s worst spy or the luckiest. The man only vaguely followed orders, had no interest in keeping a low profile, and if negotiations failed (which they so often did) he would just blindly shoot his way out. To Yuri, a veteran of the KGB’s strict adherence, adaptation something only used as a last resort—Leroy represented a grave danger.

Yuri would know—he was assigned as Leroy’s partner as soon as he was declared fit for service, following rigorous tests and debriefings. He wasn’t alone thankfully—he’s sure he would have killed Leroy otherwise.

“You know, you don’t have to do this.” Yuri says, guilt eating at his stomach as Otabek shrugs noncommittally. He had a promising career as a figure skater—he was talented and he was safe now. He could have lived a normal life, a happy life. Leroy’s superiors had been true to their word—Otabek’s family was safe, along with Yuri’s. (Yuri had been surprised at how well Leroy had kept his own word—personally accompanying them even though Yuri knew that it was a truly stupid and sentimental move—he’d done his job, there had been no need.) 

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” Otabek replies, looking back at the paper targets on the gun range before them. He’s getting better, favoring SIGs out of all those offered. Yuri is teaching him fire arms, hand-to-hand, everything he can—there’s too much at stake if he loses Otabek. Otabek’s far from a lost cause—able to keep up with Yuri’s instruction as well as the mandated training. “I want to help.”

 “You’ve never been tortured before.” Yuri interjects and it’s a low blow but Yuri has been tortured—Yuri’s been through a lot and he doesn’t understand why Otabek would follow him into this. “ _Beka_ , I know you want to help—I just—”

“I know what I’m doing.” Otabek responds, reaching for more ammo. Otabek is stubborn, just as stubborn as he is, Yuri knows it’s a losing battle even trying to convince him otherwise. “You’re not the first one to try and talk me out of this…JJ did too.”

“Leroy?” They’ve only been on two missions together so far and Yuri can’t help the curl of disdain that fills him when he’s mentioned. Agents are assigned to teams of three and even though Otabek is technically too new to be in the field really—he’s been on all of their missions in some form or fashion, even if it’s driving them to safety.

Otabek pauses, brow raised.

“It’s been months, we should start using his name.”

“He says his name enough for all of us—sometimes to enemy agents even.” Yuri is frustrated, for as much of a blessing this new assignment is—it’s equally irritating. He’s shocked though, Leroy certainly didn’t act like he was worried about Otabek’s safety, or anyone’s, even his own. “What did Ler—JJ say?”

“Same thing you did.” Otabek finishes loading up another round, frowning. “Not exactly the same way, but close. I already understand the risks, I’m not going to do this if I don’t want to.”

Yuri knows there’s nothing he can do about it now—just keep preparing Otabek the best he can. He’s not sure why the revelation that Leroy (so careless usually) tried to stop Otabek from going down this siren song of a path bothers him but it does.

He keeps his reservations to himself.

\---

There are times, JJ (because now that Otabek was using his name, Yuri found he had no real excuse not to either) is a commendable agent—he’s the senior most agent on their team for a reason after all. Still, there’s a pattern that forms whenever it comes to information extraction and success rate.

“Another honeypot?” Honeypot missions aren’t unfamiliar to Yuri, after all he met JJ on one—it’s just the amount they were assigned was...concerning. “This is the second one this month.”

“Well, that’s kind of JJ’s specialty.” Their handler, a willowy former agent that swayed between shirking violet and passionate martyr constantly, Katsuki replies. He’s supposedly engaged to a former ice skater that defected years ago, but Yuri doesn’t know or care much about the details.

Otabek has no real strong feelings on honeypots, seems to find the whole notion disconcerting in theory. In the face of lower casualty rate however, he tends to be generally more supportive. He looks over the dossier Katsuki slid over to each of them. They’re meeting in their room at the Grand Plaza Hotel, the sun in Italy had been unkind to Yuri and this was adding to his mood.

“Look at it this way kitten—if the mission goes well, no one dies and we get the intel rather easily. If it doesn’t go well, then at least you get to shoot something.” JJ offers, unbothered as ever because Yuri KNOWS JJ likes honeypots. “Everyone wins.”

“You most of all.” Yuri cuts in knowing it’s a low blow—there’s a strange sort of nerves that jump down his spine, riling him up in a way that happens every time he thinks of JJ taking off his suit. Otabek shoots him a concerned look over the table that he does his best to ignore while Katsuki coughs weakly.

JJ just shrugs in the face of the hostility, his eyes ever assessing in a way that reminds Yuri of a tactician going over favorable moves in a game of chess.

“If all I have to do is spread my legs and we can avoid killing anyone then I don’t mind—less blood to clean up than your preferred way of getting information.” JJ says, blithe as ever. Yuri snarls before he means to, rankled with barely effort on JJ’s part and he’s not sure why.

“Um, if you guys are done—“ Katsuki begins as Otabek frowns at the both of them, even JJ shirks at the disproval in his gaze.

“My dearest apologies, Yuuri please continue.” JJ offers up, apologetic in everything but actual intent.

\---

It’s a distressing pattern that emerges often as of late—Yuri is a good agent, he knows he’s a good agent—they would have never gone out of their way for him otherwise. But when Yuri is paired with JJ he feels like he’s somehow becoming worse, that he’s being tested for something and failing.

He’s a crack shot, he’s deadly with a knife and an invaluable asset—he has worked and excelled with worse partners before. Yet, somehow JJ irritates him to incompetence, makes him feel like a new agent all over again.

“You’re surprisingly easy to wind up.” JJ whispers into the comms as Yuri watches him from his scope. He’s camped out on the rooftop of the building across the street from where JJ is meeting this mission’s mark. Otabek is currently securing their getaway car and driving up—right now, it’s just him and JJ. He’s been on the roof for hours now, the Dragunov he uses is all but an old friend at this point yet it’s still uncomfortable. He does not complain, merely snorts as he continues to watch JJ make further preparations.

“Says the man who’s undressing in front of the window—have you no shame?” Yuri’s finger itches from its place on the trigger guard. “At least close the curtains.”

“What if I like giving you a show? We never did get to finish our business on your first mission.” JJ glances in his direction—every part of Yuri is screaming at the blatant giveaway to his location but he says nothing—and smirks. JJ begins to unbutton his shirt, slowly. Yuri swallows, his throat alarmingly dry. He curses.

“Perhaps I don’t like used goods.” Yuri tries to sneer, it comes out flat—JJ winks as he slides his shirt off, revealing the outline of abdominal muscles under his slip of an undershirt. Yuri finds he wants to bite them—hard—through the material.

JJ laughs, completely unbothered as he slides the undershirt over his head, reveling in the way he knows Yuri hates.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true—you’re hypocritical Agent Plisetsky, but even you have your limits.” JJ licks his lips one last time, turning on his heel. It’s almost time for the mark to arrive—some closeted weapons manufacturer with loose ties to the Sicilian mob and body far less attractive than the sin JJ was offering.  “Let me know if you enjoy the show Yuri—Otabek won’t be in range of our comms for a while, you’re fully free to vocalize what you want. I know I will.”

And with that JJ is gone, leaving a swooping heat in Yuri’s stomach and hard set to his mouth.

\---

JJ lets the weapons manufacturer take him on the floor, right next to the window, unbothered by the way the man uses him—Yuri spits curses into the comms even as he feels his pants tighten at the sight.

He’s never been so thankful for the moment the comms crackle with Otabek’s call for an emergency extraction than he is at that moment.

If he shoots down Mafioso with a little more relish than is necessary, no one will call him out on it.

No one will be the wiser.

\---

After that terrible Rome mission (which ironically was a success on all fronts minus the shootout at the end that was equal parts Yuri’s fear for Otabek’s safety and his sheer aggravation of JJ and his shameless, shameless ways) something changes in their dynamic.

“You’re upset.” Otabek surmises, as they recline in loose stacks of hay—they’re waiting to be retrieved from their makeshift safe house, an abandoned farm house in the middle of nowhere in the English countryside. JJ is currently unconscious from a blow to the back of the head, Otabek’s been shot in the right shoulder and Yuri’s lost all feeling his right leg (at least the bleeding had stopped thank god)—it’s been a while since any of them have this been badly injured.

“You’ve been shot of course I am—“

“—Not just about that. You and JJ both blew our cover because you guys started arguing.” Otabek interrupts because he maybe Yuri’s best and only friend, but he can and will call him out on his bullshit. “Whatever is happening between you two needs to stop—you’re both good at what you do, there’s no need for us to almost die like this.”

It’s not unkind and that’s the most cutting part, Yuri instantly feels the shame rise in him.

“Beka, I—”

“—It’s not just you, it’s the both of you. You need to figure this out.” Otabek sighs, lucid even with the gunshot wound. “For all of our sakes, please.”

\---

And that is how Yuri ends up in JJ’s hotel room, in a strange parody of their first meeting. He’s barely been cleared for duty for a day, but this is far more important to him.

“We have to talk.” Yuri presses, before JJ can get any words out. JJ has recovered far faster than any of them, already prepping with Katsuki for their next mission (thankfully not a honeypot, but infinitely more complicated than a simple heist). Yuri feels more dressed up than JJ for once, elegant black turtleneck under a lavish tan pea coat and khakis—if it’s flattering to his figure, than he surely doesn’t remark on it. JJ was in the middle of undressing, suit vest and tie gone, pale blue button-up and pressed navy suit pants left.

“You know it’s not talking that we both need to do.” JJ replies, he sounds…irritated himself actually, like even he can’t believe their definite cock-up the mission before. “What do you want from me, Agent Plisetsky?”

Yuri wants—which he discovered lying in the hospital from a stab wound that should’ve been worse and yet kept him bed-ridden for longer than it should have— Yuri wants JJ, or at least, what JJ’s been offering.

He’s spent far too long thinking about JJ and claiming, taking—letting JJ bite and scratch and claw.

“What you’re willing to give...and then some.” Yuri finally allows, and it feels strange to admit it after all this time but it’s the undercurrent of tension that’s been there since the beginning.

JJ’s pupils dilate, he stiffens at the idea and Yuri smirks back—well, he’s not the only one who’s burned this entire time apparently.

Then again, JJ hadn't been exactly subtle about it from the beginning. Hunger, want--that'd been settled into his eyes from the get-go, only now there was so much more than that.

It was hardly love from the either of them--but it felt like a strange precursor that could eventually lead the way.

"What do you propose we do then, Agent Leroy?" Yuri demands, sliding his jacket off and taking a seat on the lavish bed, not having to turn to know how desperately JJ was following the movement.

"Allow me to demonstrate." JJ's voice was smooth yet restrained, like even he wasn't sure what to do about the deep want.

\---

"You're shameless." Yuri growls, even as he hisses at the contact of slick lube between his thighs. He's flushed and shaking, on his knees pinned from where JJ cages him.

The other man's suit pants are ruined, but he has yet to take them off completely--the feeling of the fabric rough against Yuri's bare skin in ways he loves but will never, ever tell him.

It's alright though--JJ doesn't have all the power, not here. Yuri's mouth may ache from the sheer width of JJ's dick but oh, he had gotten JJ to beg, truly actually beg for it and that had been a revelation. The wounded, breathless note of his voice as Yuri took control of him, deciding when he'd get that pleasure he so desperately wanted.

Yuri was hard, dizzyingly so, and when he finally pushed his thighs together, he keened at the feeling of JJ's cock sliding between them, under Yuri's own.

"Oh, that's--" JJ's voice was harsh in his ears, he sounded so desperately like he wanted to make some sort of joke but he couldn't. He pulled away, the slide of his dick against Yuri's and the heat between their bodies was maddening. Yuri's voice was crackling, ready to bark another order when JJ slammed into the tightness of his thighs, friction too much, too soon and the grip of his hands mean on Yuri's hips.

"Next time--you can ride me, hell I'll even ride you." JJ was shameless, absolutely so as he promised filthier and filthier acts and Yuri couldn't stop the noises being punched out of him at the imagery. "Wouldn't that be lovely--I'll let you fuck your aggression out of me kitten."

Yuri hates how much he wants that, how much he likes the idea of fucking JJ—making him shake with how much he needs Yuri’s cock inside of him. The unrelenting pressure of his dick on JJ’s prostate—able to make JJ dizzy with how much he’ll need Yuri too grant him that release.

Yuri writhes at the drag of teeth on his neck, growling. JJ's laugh took on an almost pained tone as he continued to slide against Yuri, slotted against his body. It was good, almost too much so—and Yuri took his own pleasure in all of the attention JJ was lavishing upon him.

It doesn’t take much to come after that, the smell of JJ’s aftershave is almost suffocating as JJ bites—angry and sharp into the juncture between Yuri’s neck and his shoulder. Yuri loses himself to the punch-drunk sensation of orgasm when he feels JJ’s hand encircling them and it’s too much and not enough—the pressure of his fingers (the feel of callouses from where JJ’s held guns, knives and lives), the feeling of JJ’s muscled torso rubbing so desperately against Yuri’s lean frame, the angry painful feeling of JJ’s fangs.

It’s sinful and decadent and as Yuri cries through, oversensitive and still thrusting desperately into JJ’s fist against his JJ’s dick—he finds he almost can’t breathe through this haze of pleasure.

Yuri loves it.

\---

There’s not much of an afterglow—JJ comes barely a second later, his own come mixing with Yuri’s, all over Yuri’s cock and thighs. JJ is nothing if attentive—licking up their spend, even as Yuri’s dick twitches and overstimulation starts to grate at the painful side. Yuri watches him entranced.

“You’re disgusting.” Yuri says despite the breathless wonder in his voice. JJ laughs and swallows it all down, the sight is almost too much for Yuri to even bear.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” JJ returns, nonplussed. There’s no time for them to lie about—Yuri’s life has yet to slow down since he’s joined United Network Command for Law and Enforcement after all. Otabek has to meet up with Agent Teller later and Yuri supposed to go with him, and even later still, he and JJ both have to go over mission reports to submit.

It’s still not an easy life by any means—there will be more injuries, there will be more fights that Yuri or JJ will be able to fuck away, they will lose people—but it’s not the worst he’s ever been in.

Lying against JJ, staring at the ceiling and listening to JJ talk about himself (again), Yuri lets himself relax. Let's the weight of the world fall of his shoulders for just this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I still have like two more fics to finish rip me. I may come back to this AU in the future but it really depends on time. I don't know how well I did it--but to be honest, this is supposed to lead to jj/yuri/ota. Eventually maybe. 
> 
> Please, please talk to me about JJYuri I have so many feelings, fellow JJ girls on [twitter](https://twitter.com/badtouches).


End file.
